Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Attila looks dubiously at the ground before stepping down. He helps with the rope, putting his venom gathering on hold temporarily.
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Mako;
Mako cautiously make it over the to the others at the pit trap tapping the ground in front of him as he goes. He watches Roan scurry down into the darkness. He will make himself available on the rope if extra muscle is needed.
Mako cautiously make it over the to the others at the pit trap tapping the ground in front of him as he goes. He watches Roan scurry down into the darkness. He will make himself available on the rope if extra muscle is needed.
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Arthfael helps hold the rope, allowing the more nimble to climb.
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Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Biblo Phyle, sagesword
"Hark! Trouble!" I exclaim to Attila as someone seems to have fallen down a pit.
I move over to the others gathered round the hole. Hearing a creature may be down there, I nock my bow.
"A torch dropped down there may reveal the danger."
"Hark! Trouble!" I exclaim to Attila as someone seems to have fallen down a pit.
I move over to the others gathered round the hole. Hearing a creature may be down there, I nock my bow.
"A torch dropped down there may reveal the danger."
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Day One
The Great Pyramid of the Lost City, Great Eastern Desert, the World of Hyboria
13th day of the month of Yuluk, 1279th year of the Age of Aquilonia
Early Evening. Scorching, arid, cloudless


The raiders of the Great Pyramid peer down a deep shaft filled with shadows and a roaring rush; the sound of water, or dead leaves, or hungry flames; and the echoing curses of an angry Pict.
Roan the barbarian springs into action, almost hurtling headlong down the trapdoor shaft before Garrin can throw in the dead man’s rope. Ignoring pleas for caution, the big Northman grabs the line without hesitation and jumps. He rides it fast, falling hard into the deep, cool bowels of the mysterious pyramid, torch flaring wild and bright in his other fist.
Those above brace themselves and hold the cord tight as they are nigh plunged into darkness. Only Biblo’s candle, and the yellow reflected torchlight from the shaft illuminate the ancient upper hall now. Arthfael and Gronda, please Save vs. Int on 1d20.
It’s a long way down and the shaft angles, slowing Roan's descent and moving him out of sight of those above. The Vanir warrior reaches the end of his rope, but there remains yet another 15 feet below. Roan dangles from the tip and drops. Up top, the rope's slack suddenly gives way!
The big barbarian lands hard at the bottom of the pit and is immediately attacked by the powerful stench of feces, sharp like a fist to the nose. The strange humming roar is deafening. His cold eyes blaze from the ammonia sting as they fiercely scan the surroundings for danger. Roan is in a square, low ceilinged stone chamber with more carvings, the most prominent one right above him, on the western wall.

The dark room has two doors; one at hand, the other behind iron bars. The uncaged north wall is fronted by a long, low stone trough, filthy with excrement. Above it, iron grates in the ceiling drip.
Loche is nearby, pulling himself up from the broken glass and oil of his shattered lantern. A 6’ by 8’ iron grating lays under him. The oil-soaked thief shouts above the din, “Ye came fer me, boyo! Thank ye! Now mind th' torch and turn yeself!"
Then Roan sees it. Impossibly, the floor is coming alive! The walls and ceiling too! By the flickering torchlight, their surfaces writhe and ripple like surreal rivers of scintillating gems... gems that slither forward trying to devour Loche and Roan. With cold realization, the barbarian realizes what these shimmering jewels really are.

Giant, beautiful, flesh-eating scarabs without number crawl toward the pair of adventurers, each one half as long as a man! Their chittering is the maddening clamor of a locust plaque.
"Argh! Damn ye!" the Pict thief curses as his bone dagger swings wild at a shimmering predator whose hungry, gleaming mandibles he narrowly evades!
But razor-sharp, iridescent insect jaws wreak havoc on Roan's right calf. The ghastly wound sprays blood droplets that glitter like spilled rubies in the torchlight.
Actions?!
Map: One square = 10 feet. R = Roan. L = Loche.
Rolls and Rulings (non-required reading):

Status:
The Great Pyramid of the Lost City, Great Eastern Desert, the World of Hyboria
13th day of the month of Yuluk, 1279th year of the Age of Aquilonia
Early Evening. Scorching, arid, cloudless
The raiders of the Great Pyramid peer down a deep shaft filled with shadows and a roaring rush; the sound of water, or dead leaves, or hungry flames; and the echoing curses of an angry Pict.
Roan the barbarian springs into action, almost hurtling headlong down the trapdoor shaft before Garrin can throw in the dead man’s rope. Ignoring pleas for caution, the big Northman grabs the line without hesitation and jumps. He rides it fast, falling hard into the deep, cool bowels of the mysterious pyramid, torch flaring wild and bright in his other fist.
Those above brace themselves and hold the cord tight as they are nigh plunged into darkness. Only Biblo’s candle, and the yellow reflected torchlight from the shaft illuminate the ancient upper hall now. Arthfael and Gronda, please Save vs. Int on 1d20.
It’s a long way down and the shaft angles, slowing Roan's descent and moving him out of sight of those above. The Vanir warrior reaches the end of his rope, but there remains yet another 15 feet below. Roan dangles from the tip and drops. Up top, the rope's slack suddenly gives way!
The big barbarian lands hard at the bottom of the pit and is immediately attacked by the powerful stench of feces, sharp like a fist to the nose. The strange humming roar is deafening. His cold eyes blaze from the ammonia sting as they fiercely scan the surroundings for danger. Roan is in a square, low ceilinged stone chamber with more carvings, the most prominent one right above him, on the western wall.
The dark room has two doors; one at hand, the other behind iron bars. The uncaged north wall is fronted by a long, low stone trough, filthy with excrement. Above it, iron grates in the ceiling drip.
Loche is nearby, pulling himself up from the broken glass and oil of his shattered lantern. A 6’ by 8’ iron grating lays under him. The oil-soaked thief shouts above the din, “Ye came fer me, boyo! Thank ye! Now mind th' torch and turn yeself!"
Then Roan sees it. Impossibly, the floor is coming alive! The walls and ceiling too! By the flickering torchlight, their surfaces writhe and ripple like surreal rivers of scintillating gems... gems that slither forward trying to devour Loche and Roan. With cold realization, the barbarian realizes what these shimmering jewels really are.
Giant, beautiful, flesh-eating scarabs without number crawl toward the pair of adventurers, each one half as long as a man! Their chittering is the maddening clamor of a locust plaque.
"Argh! Damn ye!" the Pict thief curses as his bone dagger swings wild at a shimmering predator whose hungry, gleaming mandibles he narrowly evades!
But razor-sharp, iridescent insect jaws wreak havoc on Roan's right calf. The ghastly wound sprays blood droplets that glitter like spilled rubies in the torchlight.
Actions?!
Map: One square = 10 feet. R = Roan. L = Loche.
Rolls and Rulings (non-required reading):
Status:
- Arthfael Griogarach: Cimmerian Northman Druid 2: AC 6, HP 12/12, Spells: 4/4 1st lvl and 2/3 2nd lvl
Attila: Hyrkanean Nomad Barbarian 1: AC 1, HP 12/12
Biblo Phyle: Zamoran Southman Cleric/Fighter/Magic-User 1/1/1: AC 3, HP 7/7, Spells: 3/4 1st lvl, Candle
Garrin Locke: Argosian Atlantean Paladin 1: AC 5, HP 11/11, Laying Hands: 0/1
Gronda: Zembabweian Savage Ranger/Thief 1/2: AC 7, HP 12/17
Loche: Pict Savage Thief 3: AC 5, HP 14/18
Mako: Khitan Easterner Illusionist 2: AC: 7, HP: 6/6, Spells: 1/2 1st lvl
Roan, Son of Rune: Vanir Northman Barbarian 1: AC 4, HP 4/12, Torch
- Protection from Evil (Garrin): -2 to AC and +2 to saving throws against evil, in a 10 foot radius around Garrin.
Last edited by Inferno on Mon May 25, 2020 1:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
DM:
As the shouting abates, Arthfael the druid recognizes the roaring purr echoing up from the trapdoor shaft. It is the song of insects. Many insects.
As the shouting abates, Arthfael the druid recognizes the roaring purr echoing up from the trapdoor shaft. It is the song of insects. Many insects.
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Mako:
"What is that!" he say in a panicked voice.
"What is that!" he say in a panicked voice.
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Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Intelligence check (13) [1d20] = 7
Gronda also hears the horrible noises from down below. She shouts down into the shaft.
Are you guys alright down there? What is happening to you?
Gronda also hears the horrible noises from down below. She shouts down into the shaft.
Are you guys alright down there? What is happening to you?
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
DM:
Roan can hear her urgent shout clearly.
Gronda the ranger recognizes the sound as well.Inferno wrote: As the shouting abates, Arthfael the druid recognizes the roaring purr echoing up from the trapdoor shaft. It is the song of insects. Many insects.
Roan can hear her urgent shout clearly.
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Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Biblo Phyle, sagesword
Unable to see deep down the pit, I loosen the arrow in my bow.
"That noise..." I say, trying to place it.
The slack rope isn't a good sign.
"If there is danger down there, I wonder if it can come up the pit?"
Unable to see deep down the pit, I loosen the arrow in my bow.
"That noise..." I say, trying to place it.
The slack rope isn't a good sign.
"If there is danger down there, I wonder if it can come up the pit?"
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Garrin Locke:
As the rope slackens and ominous sounds rise from the shaft, Garrin declares, "For the love of Mitra! We cannot leave them to whatever horror has befallen them!" He looks grimly at the men that hover around the opening.
As the rope slackens and ominous sounds rise from the shaft, Garrin declares, "For the love of Mitra! We cannot leave them to whatever horror has befallen them!" He looks grimly at the men that hover around the opening.
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Mako:
"What about using the statue again? It worked the last time."
"What about using the statue again? It worked the last time."
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Garrin Locke:
He momentarily hangs at the end of the rope, surveying the scene below. Taking his dagger from between his teeth, he drops and attempts to plunge it into the chitinous back of one of the beetles.
"I fear we risk crushing our companions if we dare do so; however, we must decide on something quickly." With this he unsheathes his dagger, places it between his teeth, and descends.DadsAngry wrote:Mako:
"What about using the statue again? It worked the last time."
He momentarily hangs at the end of the rope, surveying the scene below. Taking his dagger from between his teeth, he drops and attempts to plunge it into the chitinous back of one of the beetles.
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Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
"Pull on the rope once for help, twice for pull up!" Biblo yells to the receding Garrin.
"Yell back up what's happening!"
"Yell back up what's happening!"
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Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Roan, Son of Rune
Hearing Gronda's call, Roan yells back. "We're up shit creek without a paddle! And about to be eaten by beetles! Git yer asses down here fast!!"
Waving his torch at the beetles, he attempts to chop one in half with his battle axe.
Battle axe: [1d20+3] = 3+3 = 6, [1d8+5] = 5+5 = 10
"Remind me why I slid down this shit hole to find you!" he growls at Locke.
Hearing Gronda's call, Roan yells back. "We're up shit creek without a paddle! And about to be eaten by beetles! Git yer asses down here fast!!"
Waving his torch at the beetles, he attempts to chop one in half with his battle axe.
Battle axe: [1d20+3] = 3+3 = 6, [1d8+5] = 5+5 = 10
"Remind me why I slid down this shit hole to find you!" he growls at Locke.
Winter is coming...
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Attila holds onto his ornate helmet and slides down the rope into the bug chamber. 'Look! Food!'
He goes bug hunting.
Javelin thrust (ThAC0 20) [1d20] = 16, [1d6] = 2 (forgot to add +1 to javelin attacks from his race)
He goes bug hunting.
Javelin thrust (ThAC0 20) [1d20] = 16, [1d6] = 2 (forgot to add +1 to javelin attacks from his race)
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Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Gronda jumps into action hearing the words of the barbarian. Seeing that the rope is already occupied, she resorts to her wall climbing skills to descend down into the shaft.
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Day One
The Great Pyramid of the Lost City, Great Eastern Desert, the World of Hyboria
13th day of the month of Yuluk, 1279th year of the Age of Aquilonia
Early Evening. Scorching, arid, cloudless


In the uppermost chamber of the Great Pyramid, warriors and wizards divide. Arthfael, Biblo and Mako brace themselves on the rope as Attila, Gronda and Garrin take the plunge into the abyss.
The fearless adventurers hurtle down the cord, wind in their faces, as they slide deeper into the chill, ages-mad stonework of the pharaohs. The thunderous hum grows louder as they reach the end of the dead man's line, and jump the final 10 feet. Garrin is last, and dangles a moment longer. But Attila and Gronda land hard in a large stone latrine, infested by gigantic insects. They hold their breath, lest the overpowering reek of shit threaten to empty their newly-filled stomachs. (Everyone can hold breath for 2 rounds, then they need a Con Save on 1d20 to avoid retching. I'll request rolls.)
Gronda the ranger sees this chamber for what it is. The mammoth insects are dung beetles. They devour waste and become food. It's an ingenious cycle; a finite, symbiotic ecosystem.
The shimmering rainbow pestilence of flesh-eating scarabs crawls and writhes toward the heroes!

Roan, axe in one fist, torch in the other, swings with primitive ferocity but can't cleave open the scarab's iridescent armor! (B9)
Loche, twin daggers moving in a blinding blur of bone white, drives one knife in, up to the hilt, braining a scarab and killing it instantly (B12). Its six twitching limbs claw spasmodically at the tiles.
The heroes beat back scintillating jaws with blade, axe and spear!
At the brutal death of one of their brethren, fear ripples through the remaining scarabs like a tidal wave. Spooked, they all open their shell armor to release translucent wings.

As one, they take flight in a chittering crescendo, transforming the chamber into a screaming, murderous diadem kaliedoscope of swirling colors, patterns, and razor sharp mandibles.
From the air, every one of them will be able to attack the heroes.
Loche glances over his shoulder, in fear. "A door. Batter it doon, boyo! Let's git th' hell out o' 'ere!"
Actions?! Roan please Save vs. Con on 1d20 or lose a round retching.
Map: One square = 10 feet. PC are marked by the first letter(s) of their first names. Greyed out letters indicate the dead.
Rolls and Rulings:

Status:
The Great Pyramid of the Lost City, Great Eastern Desert, the World of Hyboria
13th day of the month of Yuluk, 1279th year of the Age of Aquilonia
Early Evening. Scorching, arid, cloudless
In the uppermost chamber of the Great Pyramid, warriors and wizards divide. Arthfael, Biblo and Mako brace themselves on the rope as Attila, Gronda and Garrin take the plunge into the abyss.
The fearless adventurers hurtle down the cord, wind in their faces, as they slide deeper into the chill, ages-mad stonework of the pharaohs. The thunderous hum grows louder as they reach the end of the dead man's line, and jump the final 10 feet. Garrin is last, and dangles a moment longer. But Attila and Gronda land hard in a large stone latrine, infested by gigantic insects. They hold their breath, lest the overpowering reek of shit threaten to empty their newly-filled stomachs. (Everyone can hold breath for 2 rounds, then they need a Con Save on 1d20 to avoid retching. I'll request rolls.)
Gronda the ranger sees this chamber for what it is. The mammoth insects are dung beetles. They devour waste and become food. It's an ingenious cycle; a finite, symbiotic ecosystem.
The shimmering rainbow pestilence of flesh-eating scarabs crawls and writhes toward the heroes!
Roan, axe in one fist, torch in the other, swings with primitive ferocity but can't cleave open the scarab's iridescent armor! (B9)
Loche, twin daggers moving in a blinding blur of bone white, drives one knife in, up to the hilt, braining a scarab and killing it instantly (B12). Its six twitching limbs claw spasmodically at the tiles.
The heroes beat back scintillating jaws with blade, axe and spear!
At the brutal death of one of their brethren, fear ripples through the remaining scarabs like a tidal wave. Spooked, they all open their shell armor to release translucent wings.
As one, they take flight in a chittering crescendo, transforming the chamber into a screaming, murderous diadem kaliedoscope of swirling colors, patterns, and razor sharp mandibles.
From the air, every one of them will be able to attack the heroes.
Loche glances over his shoulder, in fear. "A door. Batter it doon, boyo! Let's git th' hell out o' 'ere!"
Actions?! Roan please Save vs. Con on 1d20 or lose a round retching.
Map: One square = 10 feet. PC are marked by the first letter(s) of their first names. Greyed out letters indicate the dead.
Rolls and Rulings:
Status:
- Arthfael Griogarach: Cimmerian Northman Druid 2: AC 6, HP 12/12, Spells: 4/4 1st lvl and 2/3 2nd lvl
Attila: Hyrkanean Nomad Barbarian 1: AC 1, HP 12/12
Biblo Phyle: Zamoran Southman Cleric/Fighter/Magic-User 1/1/1: AC 3, HP 7/7, Spells: 3/4 1st lvl, Candle
Garrin Locke: Argosian Atlantean Paladin 1: AC 5, HP 11/11, Laying Hands: 0/1
Gronda: Zembabweian Savage Ranger/Thief 1/2: AC 7, HP 12/17
Loche: Pict Savage Thief 3: AC 5, HP 14/18
Mako: Khitan Easterner Illusionist 2: AC: 7, HP: 6/6, Spells: 1/2 1st lvl
Roan, Son of Rune: Vanir Northman Barbarian 1: AC 4, HP 4/12, Torch
- Protection from Evil (Garrin): -2 to AC and +2 to saving throws against evil, in a 10 foot radius around Garrin.
Last edited by Inferno on Mon May 25, 2020 1:23 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead
Arthfael, still holding the rope and the only one up top (I think), looks for something heavy to tie the rope to so he can climb down after the others.